


lines dissecting

by savetheclaypots



Series: "the rupture" codas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode Tag: s15e03, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savetheclaypots/pseuds/savetheclaypots
Summary: The sound of the bunker’s front door closing hits Castiel like a death knell.





	lines dissecting

**Author's Note:**

> title and outro from "the past and the pending" (the shins)

The sound of the bunker's front door closing hits Castiel like a death knell. He sighs at the thought; such dramatics are entirely too human. Some 10 years ago, barely a blink in time, the thought would have been, well, unthinkable. It's a messy thing to walk away. To know that there is no such thing as closure.

Humans heal with time, Castiel knows this. But angels are creatures of permanence. Eternal. They were not made for changing. He has been angel and human alike; thinks he has landed somewhere in between. What is healing then, for a creature like Castiel? When will Jack's loss be less like a hemorrhaging? When will it feel like an ache, persistent and manageable? There are books for this, but Castiel isn't sure they are meant for him.

There are books about heartbreak, too. Books, and movies, and music, so much music. Castiel knows them. Minutely. He knows the stories humans have told about love and lust. Love and redemption. Forgiveness. Love at the right time. Love at the wrong time. Metatron made sure he knew all of it. Minutely. But Castiel doesn't know if there are lessons for him there. Much less companionship. He knows there's a space in his heart Dean lives in. Has always already lived in. It's a messy thing to walk away. Untidy. There's no such thing as closure.

These things were not made for him, but they are his nonetheless. Castiel feels immensely, minutely, human.

Castiel walks to his car, and his his footsteps are heavy, sorrowful. His muscles are tight, his grace contained, yet he feels he is falling apart. Very human, that. Feeling had become second nature. Effortless and inescapable. Leaving the bunker, leaving Sam, leaving _Dean_ had not. Inevitable, maybe, though to think it causes a cold panic to wash over him.

And it's fascinating how human emotion comes in contradictions: hot tears and cold dread. All things Castiel thought were not made for him. How monumental that he's here now sitting frozen in his car with his thoughts racing. To think he didn't know how, before. Before Dean. _Before_.

But maybe Castiel has finally learned a lesson, if only just the one: to know when, if not how, to leave. Another change, then, the after. Whatever that is. Whatever that feels like.

*** 

The sound of the bunker's door closing hits Dean like a death knell. And then silence.

**Author's Note:**

> _we've turned every stone and_   
_for all our inventions_   
_in matters of love loss, _   
_we've no recourse at all_


End file.
